


In the Wake of Grief

by BTWelsh59



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Budding Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Homecoming, Letters, Luna Lovegood Being Luna Lovegood, Luna is a little nervous, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective George Weasley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27406066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BTWelsh59/pseuds/BTWelsh59
Summary: A collection of dabbles and stories following the lives that were effected by the war
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/George Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. Luna's Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year and a half after the war. Lives are starting to go back to normal, or as normal as they can get. A memory of Fred has been nagging Luna for a while and she's finally gained the courage to share that memory.

Dear George,

I know it must be weird getting a letter, from me that is. To be honest, I don’t even know where you are as I write this letter. 

I’m sure you are also wondering why I am writing to you in the first place. And you are right to wonder why. Surely you will tell me why I even started this in the first place.

Oh yes, now I remember why I have decided to write to you. I know that you have had it rough as of late. Your shop has not been open in a while. Of course, you are probably telling me to mind my own business by now but I implore you to have some patience with me.

I know you miss Fred. 

Not just because he was your twin & brother. Not just because he was your best mate. Not even because you both had a business together.

It’s because he is gone.

I won’t pretend to know what this is like for you or compare my own losses as equal to yours.

But what I do offer is something simple.

I have enchanted this letter with a little surprise for you. I found a pensive with something that you deserve to see and I finally found a way to get it to mere with this letter.

I do hope that it works and more importantly that you are the receiver of this letter.

May it bring a little light in the dark.

-Luna

Oh, by the way, swish your wand in a counter-clockwise motion and say Memoriae.


	2. George's First Response

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George responds to Luna's letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or original works.

Dear Luna,

I can't promise I'm going to be very good at this whole letter thing. But I needed to respond.

I don't know how you were able to enchant your letter. But it was incredible. 

I will never be able to express how thankful I am.

I cried. And maybe it's not manly to admit that I cried. But that memory was so great. 

I kept watching the memory over and over. Seeing Fred from your perspective was so refreshing. I always see him from my perspective, always assuming he would be there. But he's not here anymore. Hearing your laugh sparkling through your memories was the highlight of my week. 

I'd love to hear from you again. If you're not too busy. I don't really know how to end these letter things. Anyways here goes nothing

-George


	3. Keeping the Owls Busy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the first couple of letters arrived Luna and George decide to start writing back and forth.

Dear George,

I could tell you how I enchanted the letter but then I would be revealing my secrets. Actually, it’s quite boring how I accomplish it. Maybe I will tell you how I did it. Or better yet, I will show you.  
I am glad that you were able to have a small moment of Fred again. I thought that it would be selfish of me to keep such a memory and not give it to you. And the good thing about the enchanted letter is that as long as you remember the spell, you have the memory. 

It was one of my favorite memories of Fred. The fact that he got away with pranking Professor Mcgonnagal still astounds me to this day. 

I would say that I am sorry for making you cry but crying is good for healing and remembering. It’s a reminder that we can feel and live. It also reminds us that, even gone, our loved ones live on in our tears. 

But you don’t need me jabbering away about that.

I do like the idea of writing to another person. It makes the time fly. Of course, I’ve also been dealing with winged pocket watches lately. I can surely make an effort to write to you, at least most of the time.

You might not know how to end letters but you’re the best letter ender I’ve ever met.

-Luna

*****

Luna,

Well another not so manly admission. I waited to see if you would respond. Please do it again. I like it a lot

I'm glad you liked my ending. That sounds like it could almost be dirty but it's not. 

I would love for you to show me the spell sometime. 

I hope crying is good because I've certainly done a lot of it lately. I could probably bottle it and sell it. I don't know what I would sell it for but I could do it. 

He always had the best pranks. I don't think I could have pulled off the Mcgonnagal prank. 

I hope the flying stop watches aren't too much of a hassle. But at least it makes time fly by.

-George 

*****

George,

I decided to respond again. The winged watches of Wales are gone. Time has passed.

I don’t really know you well enough to gage when you are being dirty and when you are not. I am sure if we continue to write, I will eventually figure something out. Or I won’t. That is another possible option. 

If you do sell your tears, you could mix it with herbs for the ladies. And you could call it eyeball sweat for the more “manly” men. Though be careful to whom you sell your tears too. Some ancient spells used to use them to trap people in mirrors. 

Also, George Weasley, don’t sell yourself short. You always lead the charge when pranking Snape. And Finch. And Hagrid. 

I’m off to Lithuanian to search for heliopaths. 

-Luna

*****

Luna,

Thank you for responding again. If there's anything I can do to guarantee a response please do not hesitate. Your letters are the highlight of my week. 

Well I hope that you certainly get to know me better. I certainly want to get to know you better. Tell me something about yourself. What's your favorite food?

You remember all those pranks? I don't remember half of those pranks myself. But I do miss the laughter. I miss it a lot. 

Maybe I could keep those tears. If you want them you can have them. 

Sounds titillating.

-Georgie


	4. Up in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna and George continue to send letters to each other.

George,

Or am I supposed to call you Georgie now? I never knew you had a nickname. 

I have added a bright neon colored mark on this parchment. The muggles call the quill that makes it a highlighter and I thought it could be the highlight of your week. 

I don’t know what all you want to know. My favorite food is butternut squash. Mum used to cook it so much Da tried to hide the squashes from her. It never worked.

Your pranks always helped change the pace and tone of school. My favorite was when you added horned frogs to Hagrid's bag. I felt so guilty for weeks for laughing so hard. Hagrid was always so kind but that prank never bothered him.

I don’t wish to hex you to a mirror. You could keep your tears for yourself. I mean, I would be afraid I would lose them right now. I’m currently sleeping in a tent. You would think with heliopaths the grounds would be warmer. It actually feels colder. 

Time for you to share a favorite..umm... activity to do that others don’t know about.

-Luna

Luna,

Georgie is just a nickname. All my siblings call me Georgie, but you can call me whatever you'd like. 

This muggle device has certainly highlighted the letter but it can't outshine hearing from you. Again if there's anything I can do to make this a guaranteed interaction.

I love squash. My mom used to make it all the time. She grows her own.

I think Hagrid kept each and every single one of those frogs probably still has them. I know he named all of them. 

You're sleeping in a tent? I hope you're doing alright. If I had any say in it, you wouldn't be sleeping outside on my watch. 

Well. My activities have been pretty limited as of late. But I used to be the brains behind the gadgets at the shop. I loved tinkering.

Truly,  
George 

George,

I like this name. It’s part of you. Though I reserve the right to call you Georgie to tease you. 

I think so far I’ve guaranteed writing back to you. Not that talking to me is anything special. I do highly enjoy receiving your letters. They keep me company in this forest.

Mum grew her own squash too. I do too but I haven’t had any since before the Dark Lord’s takeover at Hogwarts.

Hagrid was the best. He also discussed nargles with me. Not that he has ever seen one but he didn’t dismiss my talk about them either.

I’m choosing to sleep in a tent. Heliopaths are skittish and sleeping in a tent gets them comfortable with me being around. Though I must be honest, Lithuanian is a little dangerous at times. The muggles world affects the wizarding world here. I have to be careful. They don’t really like outside researchers. 

I love your gadgets. Especially the one that helps mimic noises. I use it to attract creatures if I can. I hope that you keep tinkering.

-Luna

Luna, 

The name is yours to use whenever you'd like. 

Thankfully I've secured this position. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you ever stopped writing me. You've spoiled me. You also keep me company. 

I clear a spot in the Hollow's garden for some squash for you so that we'll always be ready for you. 

I think I might miss Hagrid the most. I sometimes wish I could go back to school.

But you're allowed? A place of honor you must be something special. Well yes of course you're special. Special to me at least. Others are fortunate to recognize that. 

Maybe I'll get back to it one day. The ideas haven't been flowing as of late. 

-George

Several weeks went by. George had not received a letter from Luna. 

So he waited and waited.

George,

I apologize for the delay in writing you back. It seems like the climate here in Lithuanian has lost its friendliness for a bit. All is well now, but for a couple of days, the Lithuanian wizards did not believe me when I said that I was researching heliopaths. I ended up spending a few days in a holding cell.  
I’m okay now and the Ministry has sorted it all out, well as much as they can. I might be coming home sooner than planned. I will say though the whole experience, minus the holding cell, that Lithuanian and its people are wonderful. 

I am truly sorry for not being able to write to you and for worrying about you. Other than trying to reason with the Aurors and other wizards that I was not a threat, I kept thinking that I was not going to write to you. This made me sad. Your letters have kept me company besides the magical creatures I am surrounded by. 

It is very sweet of you to clear a patch of garden for me. I hope your mum won’t mind. I know she takes a lot of pride in her garden.

I do hope that you will tinker again. You were always so keen on it. And charms. You always did well there. At least, that’s what I gaged from your spell work.

I am safe and secure at the moment. I’m waiting to see if I can travel somewhere else for my research or if I just need to come home. Maybe we can grab a cup of tea together. Or something stronger if that suits you. 

-Luna

Luna,

What a relief hearing from you. I was about to come and find you. I was very worried. But then I thought maybe I had said something too forward and you decided to stop writing.

I'm glad you're okay. But I do know an Auror and he's the former chosen one, if you're ever in a bind again please don't hesitate to reach out I'm sure we'd be able to fix it for you right away. 

Yeah, Mum used to be very attached to her garden. Not so much anymore. Ginny has been taking over a lot and I don't think she'd even notice if I cleared a whole section for you. As long as you promise to come by and eat some. 

Maybe one day. If you have a problem that needs to be solved with some tinkering let me know. Maybe making something for you would motivate me.

Next time you're in jail don't forget to tell me, you little criminal.

-George

George,

I apologize for worrying you so much. But I can also take care of myself, most of the time.   
I honestly hope I won’t get detained again anytime soon. Though it looks like I am coming home very soon. 

I actually like it when you are forward with me. It leaves less room for guessing. But I also like small surprises too. My point is that I want you to be yourself with me if you are able. 

I’ll have to ask Ginny about the garden. I need to check in with her more often. If you see her, give her my love.

I might be in need of your invention in the future if my research ends out of nowhere. But no pressure from me. We’ll have to come to a price agreement in the future if I’m to use you. Your skills as a tinkerer that is.

This little criminal is off to find some food.

-Luna

Luna,

I guess when you’re an incredible researcher off to scour the world for the answers to our questions there is a bit of danger. I can’t help but to worry. My mother is Molly Weasley, she had to rub off on me at least a little bit.

You’re coming home? Do you have any plans? What does Luna Lovegood do in her free time?

Of course, I’ll let her know you’re thinking of her. I’m sure she’d also love to see you.

Of course. Whenever you need me. And you don’t need to pay me, I can’t promise I will be able to produce anything worthwhile. You’re free to use me at any time. And in any way.

What are you eating in the jungle, criminal?

-George

George,

I am coming home very soon. I am waiting for the right Port Key to be available. It won’t be long now. My research needs more work but to be honest, I think my latest experience reminded me I need to take some time off.

And I agree, your mother is a very strong-willed woman. Though the thought of you worrying, especially about me, makes me sad. Worry doesn’t make life better.

I don’t have any plans yet. That could all change by the time that you receive this letter but the probability of that is small. I do hope that I will get to see Ginny soon. I know that she has been busy helping your mum. I do hope she remembers to take some time for herself. 

Of course, I have to pay you. It would be unfair to take advantage of your work. At the very least, I can buy you dinner and a pint to make it up to you. But we can discuss details when I get back officially. 

George, I hope you realize that you deserve to be recognized for the work that you have done. Whether it’s good for you or not, I think that you deserve more credit than you give yourself. That’s why I can’t just use you.

As for supper, I had limited choices, as of late. Mostly a lot of nuts and berries. If I can get to the village, where I need to go for the Port Key early, I might be able to get something at the local pub. 

Take care of yourself. 

-Luna

Luna,

Meet me at the leaky cauldron. I’ll be there. I’ll buy your first meal. We can discuss arrangements. And my mother if you’d like.

-George


	5. Bittersweet Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After countless of letters passed between shaky fingers, the pair finally see each other in person again.

Luna breathed in the damp air of London. She was home. Her port key left much later than she thought it would. Her toes felt cramped in her muddy hiking books and her oversized yellow coat grew heavy. She was so ready to magic herself into better clothes and have warm food at the Leaky Cauldron. But first, she had to walk through some muggles. Then she would find George.

George.

Luna never thought in all her years that she would be speaking to her former army alum. When she sent that first letter, she couldn’t have believed that events that had come about. Sure, nothing had really occurred between her and George Weasley. Or had it.

Something was stirring inside her. Luna wished she could blame it on the port key travel or ruckspruts. The mix of nerves, excitement, and nausea overwhelmed her. There was no way a man, who she had only been writing, could pull such a response from her.

Yet here she was. 

No, literally, here she was at the Leaky Cauldron. 

It was a sight for sore eyes. A place full of memories, but good and bad. Luna hadn’t been here in over a year. Between reconstruction of the wizarding world, finishing school, and starting her research, Luna hadn’t really been anywhere near familiar places.

Or familiar people.

She didn’t know where George would be or if he was still here. He could have stepped over for a bit. Luna hadn’t really told him when she would be arriving. But this is where she knew she needed to be.

The smell of old wood was the first to greet her. The damp and musty oak blended with pine was comforting yet different. She imagined that the pine was a new addition since the rebuilding. She never got around to asking George any serious details of how things were here. And she didn’t just mean the physical place. 

The pub was mostly empty. Luna figured that the dinner rush would happen at any moment. She walked closer to the bar so she could inquire about a place to stay and a warm beverage. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for someone and no one. 

But there he was. George sitting in the far right corner at a small table. Upon it was a few glasses of whatever he had been drinking and an empty bowl of what she assumed was the daily soup. The Leaky Cauldron’s leek soup was the best thing they served this time of the year.  
George was engrossed in some parchment. Luna didn’t know what he could be reading but it didn’t matter.

She was here. He was here. That was all that was important to her. 

Propriety be damned. She marched right over to him. When she was close enough she spoke his name, clearly, firmly, and with every feeling she had of him since sending the first letter.

“Hello, George.”


	6. Reunions & Ruminations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna and George met up and discuss their lives.

With a start George suddenly lets go of the documents he was holding and a couple fall to the ground as his deep brown eyes suddenly swing and lock with Luna’s. All at once his face transforms from sullen to smiling. He suddenly stands knocking his long legs on the underside of the table and pushing his chair so it teeters on two legs before it clacks back onto the floor as he stands. Still smiling he says “Hello Luna.”

A long lock of red hair falls from his cap and in front of his eyes. George mutters a small curse and shoves his hair back into place and says “Sorry, the cap is necessary. I was hoping to keep some of my annamenity. Strangers tend to have a lot of questions and I’m afraid I don’t have any answers. Oh bugger I’m rambling, you must be so hungry do you want any food? Drink?”

Luna wanted many things: a warm drink, soup, a bath. But what was one thing that she wanted that she had not had in so long. A hug. She felt her body move on its own toward George and her arms moved to embrace him. She had not planned to be so close to him so soon. Or at all. She didn’t have any words for George. All she knew was warmth and safety. A sudden calm hit her in the chest and the weight of her life threatened to consume her.

Yet, here she was, in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, hugging George Weasley. 

What was going on with her?

His arms wrapped around her right below her neck. As he pulled her in even tighter. He gently rested his head on top of hers curling himself around her. Gods it was a good hug. And one that George did not know was exactly what he needed in that moment as his senses were suddenly filled with this wondrous woman in his arms. Her smell, the feel of her arms wrapped around his midsection, and the sight of her. The sight of her was incredible. Even travel worn and weary, the sight of her was astonishing. From the pink of her cold bitten nose to the wild and untamed bun sitting very precariously on top of her head.

“We should probably let each other go. People might start asking questions and I don’t think I would have an answer for those either.”

Luna laughed at that. “Yes, the sight of a strange woman hugging a strange man in a pub would give way to gossip.”

But as soon, as she said it, she untangled herself from him. Her desperation for physical affection mortified her. Not that she would let George know. He seemed well enough. He was a little too thin but he still had a sharp twinkle to his eyes. But it was haunted from all the horror they had witnessed over the last couple of years.

“Well that and this bean stock of a man did not want to let go and it might scare the locals. They might think I forced myself onto you.” Luna’s pink cheeks turned even pinker as she said   
“I’ll take a warm drink, if you don’t mind. The trip from port key, to here was bitterly cold. Even I have limits.” Great. Now she was rambling on again at him.

George looked at her with the smile she remembered and Luna swore her insides were liquefying. When had he gotten so handsome? Or was he always this handsome? Or was it her delirium from the cold and the lack of sufficient sleep? Maybe she just needed to get back into the reality of where she was and who she was with.

“Go ahead and get yourself settled.” He walked behind her to take off her coat and immediately once she was out of her coat it was floating to the coat rack by the fire to keep it dry and toasty. “What are you having?”

“A hot toddy sounds amazing right abound now.” Luna had thought about this drink just about as much as she had been thinking about George. Was it well before an acceptable drinking hour? Definitely. But Luna never gave a nargle’s left tit about society’s rules. “ What about you? What have you been drinking today, George?”

“Just beer. Do you want some soup too? It’s good?” he enchants the empty dishes to float to the buss bin and clears the rest of the table. Luna nods her head eagerly thinking about the buttery soup. A grin graces George’s face again as he stands up and walks to the bar. He leans up against it talking to the tender as a laugh escapes him. Suddenly he has two drinks in his hands and he’s walking back to the table.

“I know he could just send our orders over to us but I just love the bartender. Oh Davie also said he just baked some bread and he’ll send it over with our soup.” 

Luna unconsciously licked her lips at the mention of fresh baked bread. Her diet of nuts, berries, and various types of dirt had kept her humble in her travels. Her homesickness was at the crisis, like a fever of a bad cold. It was hitting her hard and here was this wonderful man bringing her food and laughter “At this rate, I’ll never leave here again with how much I am being spoiled at this moment. Then, you’d both be stuck with me forever.” 

“You say that like I wouldn’t like just that, well maybe not sharing with Davie.”

“Well, we are taking up space in his pub and eating his food. Not to mention indulging in his ales. It might be rude to leave him out.” Luna teased. It was easy to ruffle George’s feathers in this playful banter that had carried over from the letters. She, at least, hoped that he knew she was just teasing him when it came to Davie.

“I think Davie would have to ask his old lady if it’s alright, though she’s a pretty adventurous lass, maybe she’d like to partake. Should I ask him?” Leaning over his shoulder towards the bar he shouts “Oi Davie! How’s that old lady of yours?”

Luna’s face flushed immediately as George called out to Davie. She had expected him to ask the tender about what they were talking about. Her life experiences really hadn’t prepared her so much for this sensual-like banter. Not that’s what she thought it was. Of course not! Luna couldn’t say that she was sensible but she wasn’t quite so bold to be so lude. Especially with George.

“Ah, she’s fine and dandy, as ever George. Reminds me I should retire someday. I tell her in a pig dream. I’d be getting your soup any moment to ya.” 

Luna could sense the history between Fred and Davie, just in their brief exchange of words. Davie’s Irish lilt was inviting and now she understood why George had wanted her to meet him here. 

It was home for George. 

Plain and simple.

A giant smile is plastered across his face as he turns back to face Luna. “Okay maybe she won’t be game. But I’m sure you could convince her.” He leans back in his chair pushing his gangly knees under the table. His knees knock into Luna’s on the other side of the small table. He blushes furiously and sits up “Oh sorry about that. I’m not used to having a guest.”

Something sad flickers behind his eyes, but when the soup suddenly arrives the flicker is gone hidden behind a twinkle. He looks up at Davie who delivered the food personally. 

“Awh! Davie, couldn’t resist coming over to see me? I know how you irish love redheads.”

“You certainly have a pretty mouth on ye. Shame it doesn’t match the rest of your face.”

“And a sweet talker too! Catch me Davie I’m swooning.”

“Is that any way to talk in front of a lady Georgie? Speaking of which.” Davie then quickly turns to Luna to address her directly “I’m Davie, welcome to my fine establishment. Even though it’s infested with redhead prats like your table mate who does not know how to make proper introductions. Does the little lady have a lovely name to match?”

“Luna Lovegood, sir.”

“Oh please don’t call me sir. No one calls me that. It would make me seem responsible. Just call me Davie.”

Luna smiled. “Okay, Davie.” She honestly had no understanding of the relationship between George and Davie. It reminded her of the close bond she had once had with her own father. It radiated a sureness and reliability, that she could only surmise was vital to George. Luna wondered if this man here was the only regular interaction with other wizards in a long while. 

“Is this why you’re called Georgie?” Luna couldn’t help herself in teasing George. Davie had practically paved the way for her. A laugh welled up her chest and throat and burst out in a cackle. Luna had never laughed so hard in her life. It was since she reconnected to George that laughter had entered back into her life.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off George’s face even if you tried. And then a slow rumble that started in his chest turned into a laugh as he said “Yup Davie is one hell of a bartender but he’s not the most creative with nicknames.” He watched as the color rose to Luna’s cheeks, bursting with life. Under his breath he says on an exhale “Incredible.” the word leaves him before he can register what he has said. 

What’d you say George?” Luna swore she heard something come out of him other than his laugh. Or maybe the key lag was finally kicking in. She realized that she was openly staring at him. Luna noticed a massive change to him since she last saw him. Yes, he was handsome as ever but the dark circles under his eyes were massive. His already pale skin was a bit clamming looking too. How long has he been like this?, she asked herself.

An Immediate flush rose up from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears, almost matching the bright ginger scruff on George’s jaw. “Oh um no sorry.” He sputters and chuckles as to almost cover up the awkwardness but the blushing is undeniable. Rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to dissipate the furious flush that seems to have taken up residence on his face.

Luna continued to stare at him. Davie had gone back to behind the bar to serve other patrons.   
George was more than just mortified. He was drained. She could tell by the way he held himself.  
This really worried her.

“George, have you been taking care of yourself? And, please don’t lie to me just to reassure me.” 

“Well that’s certainly not the question I thought you’d ask.”

“What question did you think I was going to ask?”

“I thought you were going to ask about our school days.”

“I might have but I’m more concerned for your well-being.”

“Or maybe like why I asked you to meet me. Or maybe something along the lines of ‘But George I thought you’d never noticed me’ Well I noticed you.”

“I thought about asking why you invited me here but I saw the dark circles under your eyes and I couldn’t contain my worry. But you don’t have to answer. I was being rude and I shouldn’t have asked. I mean we just saw each other again after a long time and….”

“Luna.”

“Yes?”

“It’s okay, it’s very sweet of you to be concerned. You weren't being rude.”

“I just...I’m bad at this but I couldn’t just pretend that you don’t look exhausted and weary”

George leans back and takes off his cap running his hands through his hair then putting it back on and tucking his hair back into the cap. He lets out a defeated sigh and says “To answer your question, no I haven’t been taking care of myself.”

“For a moment, I honestly thought you were going to tell me that you were sick. Terminally sick.”

“No, not terminally ill. Unless you consider losing your other half a terminal illness. It can’t exactly be cured.”

Luna blushed at her slight stupidity. “I realized that seeing you in person made me realize how little I know about you and what’s been going on with you.

“Well not too much has been going on with me. Well other than the fact that I’ve always come in a pair and suddenly I’m no longer a set. And trying to figure out what my dreams are and what were ours and who I am as…………...Just George… Just George.”

“Oh George.” Luna’s tone didn’t contain pity. It was a genuine sounding of his name. 

“Yes, Luna?”


	7. Start of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna & George continue their conversation and something starts to bloom

“I…” Luna knew there was nothing that she could say to help him. So she got up from her chair and hugged him. She hugged him tightly as if to convey to him what words could never do justice.

He sat silently accepting the hug without moving for so long that Luna thought he wasn’t going to then right when she was about to pull away George lifts his arms to encompass her and drag her down so she’s perched on the edge of his knee he buries his head into the crook of her shoulder as she can feel the corner of his eyes dampening. Luna tries to break the hug again but he quietly whispers “Please don’t go.” 

Those words broke her heart. Here was a shattered man who had been all alone to deal with the grief of his brother. She tightened her arms around him and rocked slightly. Well, as best she could in this position. She found herself quietly humming a tune her mother had sung to her when she was scared as a child. Luna had no idea why she decided to use it now. 

What she doesn't know is that it was exactly what he needed at that moment. And as the grief rolled through his body and painted all emotions with a dark grey tinge, this was a bright moment. Even as his tears fell to her shoulders, he could see the suggestion of light. Of hope. 

George eases his head off her shoulder and holds her shoulders at a length he says with water around all his edges “Thank you, Luna.”

She smiles slightly and says, “ You’re welcome. Do you cry on all the girls?”

“There has never been any girls, other than you Luna.”

“Oh.” Luna was in disbelief that George had not been with other women but this was not the time for that. “Well, I’ve certainly done nothing but question you and make you cry since I got here.” She felt a ping of shame creep into her.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing darlin’ Maybe I like your questions. Maybe it’s exactly what I needed.”

She gave him an incredulous look that would make even paint question its existence on a wall. 

“I doubt that what you had planned for today was to cry in the pub.”

“Well, I don’t ever exactly plan on crying. It seems to happen at the most inopportune moments as of late. But never in the arms of a gorgeous lady such as yourself. Out of all the places I’ve cried lately, it’s probably my favorite.”

He bounces his knee that Luna is still perched on and with a cheeky grin he says “Comfortable?”

Luna immediately remembers the position she is in and she turns bright red. In an attempt to cover up her embarrassment of being caught sitting on George’s leg, she gets up fast. Unfortunately, she gets up so fast, that she loses her balance and lands on the pub floor with a thump. 

Great, she thinks, just what I need; more humiliation.

Before she can think another thought, lith arms are wrapping around her waist and helping her back up and into her chair. “If you didn’t want to be sitting on my lap that bad, you could have just said something,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes

Luna continues to turn an even deeper shade of red. “i...I...I just realized I should get off you. And you probably needed me too.” Fuck, this was getting worse by the moment.

“Well I need a lot of things but you getting off of me was not one of them.”

She started rubbing her elbow, which she had landed on as she hit the floor. 

“Are you okay?” He’s suddenly standing and has her arm in his hands as he’s investigating her elbow.

“I think so. I think the only thing I injured was my pride.” Luna was still brighter red and her face felt hot.

“Well, I’ve got the perfect thing for that.” He leans in and kisses her forehead without thinking and then before he can process what he just did he walks up to the bar and goes behind it Davie nodding in his direction like George just waltzes behind the bar at the Cauldron every day.

He’s suddenly back with two steaming hot toddies and a neat slice of pie floating on a plate just over his shoulder. The plate settles neatly onto the table as George sets the mugs on the table. “I know where his old lady hides the pie. It’s Banoffee.”

Luna’s mouth watered. She hadn’t had so much special treatment for a long time. George was being quite the gentleman. Through their letters, he had become such a dear friend. Now, that they were together in person, everything felt so much more intense than she realized it was.

“This is amazing. Davie seems to really enjoy having you around.”

“Well, I’m here pretty much every day given its proximity to the shop. I think he geezer just got tired of cleaning up after me. Well, that and I think his old lady is sweet on me.”

Luna chuckled. “Well with your cheery disposition and charm, who could blame her?” 

“Cheery, I don’t think I’ve been called cheery in a while.”

Luna felt another ping of sadness for George. How long had he been so lost in this phase?

“I guess I should finally ask you why you invited me here? That is if you want me to and if you still want to answer.”

“Well. I asked you here because I wanted to see you. When I was reading your letters it felt like I could hear you talking to me. It felt like I wasn’t alone. And I wanted to see you again because of that.”

“I felt that same way about you when I was reading your letters. There were some days where the weather was too poor for me to do any research. So I would pull out your letter to reread them. And sometimes, if I had a thought on research or was just lonely, I would imagine what you would say based on the letters.”

“Did you read it in my voice? I certainly hope you did.”

Luna nodded her head. “I imagined you were there, sitting next to me, speaking to me. Rather than just reading words on parchment.”

"I mean that would have been my preferred 

method of delivery but my options were limited"

“Options are as limited as we make ourselves. My mum used to say that. But, it was nice to imagine you there. I could tell you my crazy theories and it didn’t feel so lonely anymore   
thinking that you would be there to listen.”

Great, do you want to shove his food in his face along with his kindness? she berated herself.

Luna looked down. She realized that she might’ve revealed way too much about her time out in the wilderness by herself. Sure George was an understanding guy and he wouldn’t have sent the letters if he didn’t want to. But she had a feeling that possibly she might have crossed a boundary about telling him how much he was coming to mean to him. 

“Well if that’s the case then consider my options open. As long as I get to listen to you.”

Luna smiled and blushed. At this rate, she might as well paint her cheeks permanently. But George was still looking at her, almost content. But she knew better.

“I should probably get going soon. I have to find a place to stay for a few days. It’s been so great reconnecting with you, George.”

He scrambles to his feet “Luna, you could stay here. I can talk to Davie real quick.”

“That’s very sweet of you but I honestly don’t have a lot of money. I might just have to camp in   
the woods.”

“That’s absolutely not happening. Not on my watch. Wait right here.” George bounds off once again behind the bar talking animatedly to Davie. Before Luna knows he’s back at the table. Beaming down at her “I got you a room, Davie said that he can find stuff for you to do to pay off your room.”

Luna stared at George, mouth agape. Then she looked at Davie, who was back to filling pints and ushering greetings to new patrons. She was overwhelmed with emotions. Not many people would take in someone like her, for no money. 

She could feel everything welling up in her. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to calm down and squash all her feelings. It wasn’t until George was directly in front of her, concern plastered on his face, that she even realized she had started crying. 

He looks gently into Luna’s eyes and puts his hand on her cheek. “Luna, are you okay?” George gently wipes away the tears falling down her cheeks.

“Yes”, she replied weakly. Her tears were leaking from her eyes more readily. Luna sniffled slightly, trying to muster her best smile. She looked George directly in the eyes and was shocked and amazed at the tenderness she received for his eyes.

“Well, I guess it’s only fair since you made me cry.”

A tearful chuckle erupted from Luna. Mortified that she had flung her snot and tears at George, she quickly covered her face with her sleeves. 

This is so embarrassing, she thought. Not only had she managed to embarrass herself royally but now she was crying in front of George.

When she could finally get the words out, she slightly lowered her hands from her face.

“You’ve really been so kind to me today. I couldn’t burden you, let alone Davie, with my housing problems.” She was still a little wishy washy in her feelings.

“Well, it’s not exactly a problem if you’re going to be working for your room.”

“But….”

“Nope. No buts. You’ll have to work. You’re not getting off that easy.”

“I can work.” She said it simply. 

This man will not let me go, she thought. Then she internally shook her head. Not like that Luna! She really needed to stop her mind from wandering when thinking about George.

“Good, because Davie is a taskmaster. Don’t let him work you too hard.”

Luna smiled. “I’ll do my best.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeves and then looked up at George. He was still looking at her intently, goofy smirk and all. But he was still relatively close to her person. His scent tickled at her senses, just close enough to entice. 

“I’ll be down the street Luna if you need anything, just send me a Lark.”

“Ummm...so should I talk to Davie? Since I’ll be working, well sorta working for him.”

“If you’d like. But I convinced him to let you rest until tomorrow morning. Here’s your room key. He’ll be sure to fill you in on all the details then.” He pulls a room key from his pocket and places it on the table. Hands brushing hands.

Luna inhaled her breath suddenly. The warmth from his hand felt...safe...like…well almost like….home.

“Get some rest, Luna. You look very ready for bed. I told Davie to give you some extra blankets, and the ‘most, unlike a tent’ room they have.”

Luna watched George walk away until he went out of sight. She looked at the key in her hand and grasped it tight. She had a lot to learn about George. But for tonight, a real bath and a real bed were just the thing. Maybe, even just what she needed.


	8. Just Like Old Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna and George continue to send more letters to each other, once again.

Light streams through the cracks in the curtains in Luna’s room at the Leaky Cauldron. Luna stretches and yawns shaking the sleep from her bones as she recalls her surroundings. A gentle coo from the corner of the room gains her full attention as Hermes, Percy’s Screech Owl lands on the window sill a letter and a package hanging from his beak.

As Percy has been living at home while trying to sort out his employment situation Hermes has been on loan to George until another owl can be procured. Given that Errol has been granted the retirement that he finally deserves he is living in the attic with the Ghoul.

A smile reaches Luna’s lips as she sees the owl on the sill. It can mean only one thing. She leisurely climbs out of bed, the bottoms of her pajama pants too long for her legs, they brush past her feet and drag on the floor. She walks over to Hermes and gives him a dutiful scratch on his head as she takes the letter from his beak. Sitting down on the sill Hermes burrows into her side and shuts his eyes. Hermes is normally too proud to allow anyone else to see this type of vulnerability, but he and Luna have become fast friends and she feeds him treats.

After a sigh of comfort and a few more head scratches, Luna finally opens the letter.

****

Luna,

Just because your home doesn’t mean I could put poor Hermes out of a job. He would be completely bored without your correspondence. So I couldn’t let him get lazy. 

And anyways, I missed seeing my name, written in your pen every day. I hope I never stop seeing it. So I’m reviving the practice purely for selfish reasons. It’ll be just like old times. So in an effort to force you to respond, I have attached a gift for you. Some personalized stationery. It’s made from mushroom pulp. I don’t know how they made paper from mushrooms but I didn’t ask. I was too amazed, and it made me think of you. Please be sure to exercise Hermes by writing back.

Please agree to see me again.

-George

****

The smile that has been on Luna’s face since the owl found its way to her room stretches even further as she starts to gently unwrap the package. Inside is the beautiful mushroom grey paper with ragged hand cut edges. A moon and stars in deep silver ink dust the bottom of every page as it catches the sunlight. Her name is etched at the bottom in the most artful calligraphy she has ever seen. On half of the pages at the top right in gold in her own handwriting, it says “George”. It seems he’s already taken the liberty to dictate that at least half of Luna’s correspondence will be to George and George alone.

Luna laughs as she gently fingers the delicate pages. She transfers Hermes to her shoulder as she walks to the small writing desk set up in her room. Once she’s settled, Hermes crawls into her lap to take a nap and waits for Luna to give him his next task. On one blank page, she writes a letter to her dear friend Ginny and then another to George. Her head swirls with thoughts as she tries to figure out how to respond, pen hovering over the page as she tries to nail down how exactly to respond. And then finally she knows and folds up the letter and hands it to Hermes. He stoically bows slightly and then is off. 

George

At this rate, George is going to need a new rug. He can’t stop pacing. He’s in his room above the shop because if he started pacing at home everyone would know something is up and he’s not quite ready to answer any of those questions. With all the newness shimmering in the air George hopes he wasn’t being too forward. Everything between George and Luna is just so new and uncertain; he really hopes he hasn’t scared her off. Maybe his gift was too much. With his mind drowning in thoughts he can’t control he barely notices the tiny knock of a beak on his window. With a woosh and a sigh of relief, all thoughts leave him as he opens the window for Hermes to come inside. A letter in his beak. George smiles as he takes the note from the owl who nips his finger as he retreats. Breaking the seal he smells the earthy scent of mushrooms and cardamom, eyes scanning over the dainty letters.

****

George,

I agree.

-Luna

****


	9. Food for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly is dealing with the grief of losing Fred and how to go on living in a world without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your kind words and support for our story. This chapter, we are giving Molly a little bit of love, but no worries, Luna & George's tale will continue. 
> 
> Much love, B&T

Molly Weasley was exhausted. To clarify, she was exhausted with her life at the current moment. She had hoped that her regular gardening would alleviate her bout with depression. But it hadn’t. It was one of the hard days. 

The hard days where she didn’t feel like she could take a full breath. Or one of the days where even the simplest of tasks was a chore. Molly had wanted to make a full meal for those at the Burrow. Ginny and Harry had been visiting more often than not lately. It wasn’t right for such a handsome couple to worry about the mother of the woman. It was just not the way things were supposed to be.

Molly had especially noticed how Ginny had taken on the burden of keeping up the Burrow as of late. She had tried to tell her daughter that she was okay, but Ginny was the only one who was not totally fooled by Molly’s sweet smile hiding her distress.

Arthur, her dear husband blessed him, was dealing with the Ministry more times than not these days. There was so much to do and he was not home nearly as much. Molly tried not to bother her husband too much. Any time that he had caught her crying, he treated her far too fragile. Arthur had a gentle spirit and a kind heart, but he expressed those both so fiercely. 

There was one time, he offered to hire a bit of help until she could get on her feet right.

“Molly”, Arthur had imploded, “why don’t you just take some time off. We could hire a….”

She cut him off swiftly. 

“Arthur Weasley, I am perfectly capable of tending to my own homestead. Do you believe me to be falling short of that standard?”

“No, love, I’m just worried about you and how you’ve been handling Fr..”

“Please don’t speak of him as if he is totally gone.” This had come out so quick, Mr. Weasley immediately snapped his mouth shut. “Please, just let me miss...let me...I’m fine, Arthur. Besides, Ginny has been doing so much work and could we truly afford to hire another elf or caretaker?”

Arthur Weasley had never brought up hiring any help since that conversation. Molly knew he meant well but she wasn’t ready to admit to the shadow lingering about her head. Her family was certainly making a right fuss as of late. The Burrow still had minor damages from the wartime but it was just not in the budget to fix everything at the moment. Surely, a few spells here and there made things better. 

But to replace some of the few enchantments the Burrow had before the war was grossly out of question. Molly could certainly live without them if only her children came home to her safely. That’s all she truly wanted. She wanted to have her children live their lives, get married, have babies, and most importantly, visit her.

The war had taken so much from Molly. Her peace of mind, her safety, and her family. Losing one child to death was devastating. To see how the war affected every single one of her children, that’s what had shattered her. No one was spared or left untouched. And there was no spell, food, or homemade item that could take it all back. 

Molly shook her head from the deep darkness stirring inside her. It was going to do her no good to focus on death. At least, to think about how her son’s death had permanently altered her. For better or worse? She really didn’t know. Many spoke that grieving a child was so much easier as time went on. But Molly found that to be hogwash. Time only seemed to make it worse. Maybe she just needed something different to preoccupy her mind. 

Since the gardening was pointless, Molly thought that she could attempt to at least make something for her children that were home and for Arthur. Cooking like a muggle, something she had learned from some of the books that Arthur had brought home, gave her a little bit of control back. It was a false sense of control. She knew it. But, so far, no one had chosen to stop her or had complained about what she made.

Arthur had found an older edition of what seemed to be a promising book. So many muggles had also been affected by the wizard war but Arthur was doing his best to learn from the muggles still. On one of her bad days, Molly had received a copy of a book called Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. It looked like it had seen better days, but Molly cradled it to her breast. 

Ever since that day, if Molly was having a bad day, she would take out her book and lose herself in its pages of French cuisine. It was so uniquely different from wizard cooking. No spells, no magical ingredients. But it was full of food that could bring the muggles much comfort. Molly thought that, maybe, just maybe, she too would find comfort from this food. Percy had been one of her first children to try one of the recipes from the book. His grimace said everything about how bad it had been. He had eaten every last bit of it though. Apparently, aspects were an abandoned dish but Molly endeavored to improve.

She was not going to use any spells or help. This was her healing time. Not that it really healed her at all. Fred was dead. She had come to accept that early on. But this muggle cooking seemed to be its own special brand of magic. It took time and care. Molly could nurture it and use it to help those around her. 

Molly was tired of everyone worrying about her. She lost a child and it’s not like a mother to simply get over that. She was tired of everyone trying to say everything was alright or giving her tips on her to take care of herself. She was tired of people looking at her with pity and sadness every time she entered a room and tip-toed around her feelings. They think that she didn’t notice their whispers and looks, but she did.  
Healing was going to take time. Molly wishes she could just magic her pain away. There was no poultice or potions that could mend her shattered heart. This was not going to be a quick fix. No spells to whisk the guilt and shame of being unable to protect one’s own child from harm and another from death. 

‘No mother should outlive her son’, was the mantra at the core of her grief. 

Molly sighed and stood up from her seat at the kitchen table. She placed her hands on her lower back and pushed light pressure to the stiff muscle there. The muscle had tensed further than she remembered in the past. She continued to raise her arms above her head and bent her knees to keep herself steady. Walking over to her worn shelving, she plucked her healing cookbook and read for what Madame Child could impart on her. 

The pages smelled of ink and parchment. Molly held the book to her nose and took a long, deep inhale of what had come to symbolize hope for her. After her aromatherapy, she placed the tome lovingly on the bench and thumbed through its pages. 

Sauces, poultry, fish...there was just so much food. This Julia Child certainly liked her butter though, in the Muggle world, Arthur had explained that they usually ate it plainly, for the majority. No herbs, no spiced oil mixed it. Molly could not even imagine such a thing. 

Each page offered specific instructions and pictures of how to create magnificent or simple dishes. But what really has Molly enamored of this cookbook was the attitude of accepting things how they are. If a recipe doesn’t turn out right or if you have to alter an ingredient, Julia doesn’t judge. It’s as if she knows how life never turns out how you want it to and that it can be cruel. But she also lets her joy pour into her food nonetheless.

That’s what Molly needed. She needed to feed herself into joy. Not just physical feeding but to feed her soul. And she was going to follow Julia’s wisdom and recipes to craft her own magic.

She flipped through the pages again, looking for the phrase the French and Julia seemed to be so fond of. Saying the right words for her healing magic was important. Essential. 

‘What is it she says,’ Molly thinks as she fans the pages, her lip pressed between her teeth.

Finally, Molly spots it. It’s a balm, soothing the ache in her heart, in this moment. 

Embracing the book to her chest, Molly stands in her kitchen, the setting sunlight creating a warming glow around her. Or was it the glow returning to her after all this time?

She whispers the phase, sacred words that will become her new mantra.

Bon Appétit.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or original works.


End file.
